Promised Land
by IndigoHyacinth
Summary: On Cloud, dying and flowers and an orphanage. Possible spoilers for Advent Children. At the same time, possible inaccuracies with the general Advent Children plot.


A/N: This was originally written as two parts, drabbles on my LJ. Likely, this whole thing is hideously inaccurate. But I like it. Based on a couple of plot-details I picked up from _Advent Children_ news, but I've purposely been avoiding most spoilers for the movie. I think "One-and-Only-Flower-Girl" may be Guardian1's, but I can't remember for sure.

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_So what do you do after you've saved the world? Twenty-two and your One-and-Only-Flower-Girl is dead, while the voices in your head have disappeared, taking your past with them?_

_Well, life goes on._

_And, either, you let yourself go (chocobo-crazy---Mako-lights on in the head but nobody home upstairs, cluttered mad and seeing shadows--) or, you can take Tifa's hand, let her open up the attic windows and freshen up with sunlight and roses and lemon pie. After the first year, and rebuilding has been well on its way, you begin your own life again. A delivery service. Which was Tifa's idea when she noticed how fastly attached you were getting to that new motorcycle of yours. You're the most efficient service in Kalm (ten minutes across the city, or your money back) and everything's speed and new chrome and black paint and for the first time---_

_For the first time since Sephiroth, you feel like yourself. Your self. All life and memories and bitter-sweetness._

_And after the second year, now here's the irony. You begin to die._

_Star Scar Syndrome. Meteor disease. You're not dying because a maniac has thrust his sword through your ribs, but because your body's decaying from the inside out, the scars blooming scarlet beneath your black clothes. Tifa doesn't know. Barrett would kill you if he found out, cussing up a storm. Nobody knows, and you're not about to tell them. You've begun avoiding them and spending your nights out in the wastelands around Midgar, stars glittering above you prettily. So much for saving the planet, the people are dying regardless. And so are you._

_In a fit of masochism, you run your finger over the ridges of upraised skin, the dark lines curling like petals. You don't...feel any different. But you've seen the bodies. You're not blind. You stare up into the sky._

I'm coming, you find yourself thinking distantly_. You see her face smiling at you in a field of flowers._

I'll meet you in the promised land

**----------------------**

Tifa had set up a new bar in Kalm. But since New Haven didn't generally open until late, Cloud never went there before at least six if he was looking for her. Anyway, these days she spent a lot of time at the orphanage and today she was helping the kids make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. The kitchen smelled like bread and nuts, preserved grapes and strawberries. Tifa had shoved a tray of chocolate-chip cookie dough blobs into the oven, so now it smelled like melting chocolate too. Kids ran underfoot, giggling and screaming. Tifa pulled off her oven mitts to herd them all to the table. Cloud came in shortly after carting a freckle-faced boy over his shoulder and holding the hand of a five-year old girl dragging a toy cart. He deposited both at the table, looking on in a kind of chagrin at the mess of children. Two of the girls had strung purple and green plastic beads around his neck. There was string in his hair.

Cloud had come to pick up the usual box of letters to deliver to the hospital, but Tifa had insisted he stay for lunch first. So he sat at the counter and munched on a sticky sandwich, nearly burning his fingers on a cookie when Tifa brought out the tray. Marlene sat next to him and talked. About the other kids, and her friends and painting and how there were so many of them now. About how Tifa was thinking that she may have to close New Haven for a while because of all the orphans and how they needed her because of the disease making all the grown-ups sick. When she started to look worried and sad talking, staring at her half-eaten cookie, Cloud asked her how Barret was doing. She sipped her milk and said Papa was doing good, he usually came around later to help and Cloud should come visit more often. Cloud said he'd try, but he'd been...busy lately. He said he was sorry, and when Marlene saw that he meant it, she didn't any more about him and visiting.

Some of the kids weren't orphans--their parents were in the hospital, patients diagnosed with the new star-scar syndrome in the recent epidemic. The kids wrote letters and drew pictures and collected them in a cardboard box. Once a week, Cloud came by on his motorcycle to deliver the package. Every week, the number of children seemed to grow.

"I don't know how you're going to manage with all of them," Cloud had said the week before to Tifa.

"We'll manage," Tifa had replied. She had looked a little strained, a four-year old tugging on her pony-tail as she she tried to help some some boys clean up the toys strewn about the room. "The older ones are a great help, and there are a few other people that try to come in when they can. I make it work."

Cloud had frowned, looking around at the children.

Their parents were dying. Or dead. The streets were so empty. Kalm was beginning to look like a ghost-town. The Planet was beginning to feel like a wasteland.

And he---

"Cloud, what are you thinking about?" Tifa asked, standing beside him. She was looking at him in concern.

Cloud broke from his reverie. He had been rubbing something just beneath his collar-bone, hidden by his shirt. He looked at her for a moment, then at the kids playing around them. Marlene had hopped down from her counter seat to help the younger children who had finished eating.

"Nothing," he said at last. He turned to smile at her. "Thanks for lunch."

"Are you going already?"

Cloud nodded. "I'm sorry. I have a few more deliveries to make this afternoon. I'll come back tomorrow, though, to help if you need anything."

Tifa hesitated, as if fumbling with her words. Finally, she only said, "Thanks Cloud."

Cloud said good-bye to the kids, then to her. And Tifa watched her friend uncertainly as he hefted the box from the corner of the playroom---scattering squealing children---and walked out the door.


End file.
